The gentle tone of her teaching,
In wonderous melodies, orchestral knowledge from a sweet teacher,
Education set by the awareness of harmonizing, delicate instruments,
Wisdom and foresight, cast by no other judgement but of a conductor,
Whomst hand leads to the ups and downs of the intensity, recognised
Ensembling in the beauty of a sinfonietta, sounds flows uninterrupted
Let the singing pendulum to your mistress's pleasure fall to the bottom, attached to the chipped illusionists mask of anticipation!
To this dance the mascarade does not crack in the shadow of sound,
A wise scholar would not sacrifice one topic relevant to learn to the passing time, to her students unfortune that is, cast in pure grief,
A wise conductor does the same with musical notes, the story flows,
With the moon high in the sky, time stands in her way, questioning her to dance with the devil amongst a distorted, whicked dark,
But resillient to the end, tough and with no distraction taking her focus the director of this event finishes the creation of art, an orchestra
A craftwoman of tempo and elegance always stands out after all, bringing the musical score to life.

~ Umi

the fact that i can never spell
unfortunately right
never ceases to **** me off.

unfortunetly?
unfortuntely?

what ****** me off even more
is that spellcheck always thinks i'm trying to say
fortunetelling

...punk ***

beginnings  bring
everyday anger
setting slings
of unfortune
upon girls
crying, innocents
dieing
bodies disfigured
all for
your disembodied
dieties

forcing your
HATE
crimes against
my sisters
little brothers
you’ve stolen
lives.

*******

and your
selfish ideologies
they were
just babies
with hands
beautiful hearts
dreaming sweetly

you are
lifetimes away
continents apart
just pray
you never
feel wrath
of this mother
this sister
this angry girl.

Anger is boiling, like a *** of water on the stove, and I can feel my veins get warm as you draw near. The web of lies you wove, trapped me in a world of pain and hatred, and caused me to lose that which I had always held dear.

I like to forgive, and I always try to forget, but you would be the first that I can never forgive. If I could cut you out of this world, like euthanizing a rabit dog at the vet, I would do it in a heartbeat, because you do not deserve to live.

Life is already ****** up without having someone to tear your confidence away, stripping you of any personality you spent your days creating. I can't believe I fell for your innocent, ******* ******* facade, and all the things you once did say. I let you in my life as a victim, and then I became the victim of us dating.

Whoever falls into your web next, I hope she has the brains to get out quick. I hope whoever else has the unfortune of meeting you realizes you're not really "sick", that these are words that hide the true meaning, that you are batshit ******* crazy and willing to beat the **** out of any person that looks at you wrong.  Man, I put up with that for too long.

I may have spent the last year building back everything that you took from me; but it may never be enough. I still go through every day with symptoms of PTSD; flinching when someone moves too fast, night terrors in the middle of the night, hyperventilating when I think I see you walk past, and anger that has stopped me from ever being "alright".

Maybe only time will really heal these wounds and turn off this oven of hatred. Or maybe I will live with this anger for the rest of my life, wishing I had done something to make this pain faded...

can you be brave enough
to acknowledge that it was just
a fateful unfortune

can you be strong enough
to accept and let go of
what's been taken from you

can you be merciful enough
to see your monstrous form
and shower her with love

you can endure anything
if you let yourself to

Ameliorate me
Ambience of high nod
No fortuitous meanings
Landslides of alien snod,

Furtive ways
Are all to many
I seeketh a day
A fullness
Of plenty

Futile romantics
In frugal pinch
Judicious tis they are
Worldly *****!!!

Juxtapose notepads
Yet different touchstones
Tentative beasts
Prowl no homes

Terse one shalt be
With all affection
Guns given as presents
Slave turned more peasant

Tirades of clownery
Winery's fail
Hidden like documents
Heart impaled

Corroborate manifest
Wilt shine its light
They've lost their path
All in fright

Arbiter's come bountifully
Devils dance
They've forgotten the ways
Of sweet romance

Inherent to pleasures
Instead of others
Lost all kinship
Sister and brother

Paradoxed discourse
Spoken on route
They forgot the lonely beggar
Prodical sons in doubt

Polemic they'll be
In times unfortune
Burning with lust
Lost to distortion

Forbear thou shalt do
Wherein thy ruins won't topple
Genres of permeating growth
Diseased muffles!!

She's a walking fever dream
That puts the lust in your lungs
Packed, feel
And breath
the white needles left there
Expand
Too far
Exhaul unfortune

I sight in vain,
the cause of my distain,
A slur of hope to be washed away
by the pain,
Espoused to unfortune,
I weep and weep,
For the love I find,
is the one I cannot Keep

maddened by
all that i don't know
it makes sense that,
it only being a portion of a picture
a sliver of your life
what you're comfortable to show

suppose it's what you would be
free from happenstance
unburdened, all you could be
if only
not for the cosmos' harp
if not for the hands of chance

this trepidations man i am
today, when an honest heart
is a sure sentence, guilty
the first step down the road
of the tired path of the ******
is to give up and fold
to say, if it's so it's so
accepting things with no gripe
no complaint, even when it's wrong
and you have the unfortune in knowing

i loved what i'd seen
what had been shown
before the clock was cleaned
the gears all greased
every meaningful place
stamped out, like the grand empires of old

and now they're churned out
broken, spoiled, soiled
focused looking solely,
totally out on their own

closer than ever, yet poles apart
we roam